


Pockets.

by floatawaysomedays



Series: Before My Morning Coffee [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-28
Updated: 2013-08-28
Packaged: 2017-12-24 22:24:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/945352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floatawaysomedays/pseuds/floatawaysomedays
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a series of S9 timestamps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pockets.

They have their first fight over something meaningless, and completely insignificant. Two hours worth of silence, and Dean can’t even remember exactly what they were arguing over. Can’t quite recall why he’s avoiding Cas in the first place. Thankfully, Sam reminds him.

"The dishwasher." He shakes his head. "It was his turn to load the dishwasher last night, and he forgot. It happens."

"My favorite coffee mug was in that dishwasher." Dean grumbles, but rubs his neck in embarrassment. It does seem like a silly thing to fight about. Childish, almost. Sam is glaring at him, pointedly.

"He’s  _human_ , Dean. We forget things.  _You_  forget shit all the time.”

"I know that." Dean says seriously. 

Sam sighs, heavily put-upon. “Go fix it with him, then. For god’s sake, he’s eating all of my chocolate.”

Cas frowns at him, his mouth turned down unhappily, when Dean finds him in their room, holed up with a book and, sure enough, Sam’s bag of little chocolate bars. The wrappers are lined up neatly on the desk next to the book. 

Dean thinks about their laundry. The simple way Cas folds everything just  _so_. Precise and orderly, neat and perfect. He thinks about balled up socks sitting side by side, and living in someone else’s pocket after forever on the road. He remembers unmade beds and unfamiliar sheets and he realizes that whatever he said, whatever he selfishly held back, he was  _wrong_. Dean blurts, “I’m sorry.” before he can backtrack or rethink it, and then stands awkwardly in the doorway of his own room.

"Me too. It’s already forgiven" Cas admits with a small shrug. "Although, I’m afraid Sam’s chocolate didn’t survive the ordeal."

Dean smirks. “I owe him one, anyway.” 


End file.
